


The Ineffable Book Club

by RightToFlight



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Animal Farm, Aziraphale Gets Crowley Interested in Books, Aziraphale loves sticky notes, Bible, Book Club, Books, Books mentioned in this fic:, Bookstores, Fluff, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Lord of the Flies References, Maybe - Freeform, Mocking Gabriel and Beelzebub via Classic Literature, Post-it Notes, Reading, Reading Aloud, References to Hamlet, War and Peace, You may actually learn things from this fic, if my portrayal of Pepper reminds you of Hermione rest assured it is mostly intentional, this is kind of a projection of my desire to teach middle school English but that's irrelevant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:53:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21599473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RightToFlight/pseuds/RightToFlight
Summary: Aziraphale loves nothing more than a demon named Crowley and a good book to read.When he decides to combine the two, things get out of hand, and he quickly finds himself hosting a book club for their close friends.This fic will likely have multiple chapters, but I have no update schedule for it.All information about the books in this fic is, to the best of my knowledge, true.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	The Ineffable Book Club

"What are you reading?"

Aziraphale jumped slightly and turned around, his irritation fading as he realized who interrupted him.

"Crowley!" A smile spread across his face. "I'd tell you not to interrupt my reading, but I already have, and, well... Nevermind that. I'm reading-" he chuckled quietly. "Well, I'm reading _Hamlet_."

"Why would you have to read it when you watched the play when it was made?" Crowley swung around the couch and settled next to Aziraphale.

"Well, I do like revisiting it. And I can make notes in it now without damaging the book!" Aziraphale picked up a square item from his side. His fingers flipped the small pages in a blur of light blue

"Sticky notes?"

"Yes, Madam Tracy got them for me last week when she stopped by for tea. Aren't they useful?" He scribbled words onto a paper and peeled it from the pad, sticking it quickly to Crowley's arm before the demon could move away.

Crowley tilted his head to look at it. It read, in Aziraphale's recognizable handwriting, ' _Best and Worst Demon.'_

" _I can label things with them,_ " Aziraphale breathed, delight in his voice.

"Give me that." Crowley grabbed the pen from Aziraphale and modified the sticky note before putting it onto Aziraphale's leg.

_'Best and Worst ~~Demon~~ Angel.'_

He was rewarded with a smile from Aziraphale, who didn't bother to take the paper from his leg.

"So," Crowley looked at the page that the book was opened to. "Is it any good?"

"Is... Is _Hamlet_ any good? Crowley, you're the one who made it a success!"

"Yes, well, I didn't stick around to watch it, like you did."

Aziraphale looked like this was the worst thing Crowley had ever told him. "That's unacceptable," he said. "I suppose I'll have to read the story out loud to you from the beginning, then. I'm rather good at reading Shakespeare's works." He saw Crowley's hesitant expression. "And I mean that. I'm far better at it than I am at magic tricks, I'll have you know."

Crowley laughed at that and leaned against the shoulder of his angel. "Alright then," he agreed, "let me hear it."

As Aziraphale read, Crowley relaxed to the sound of his voice. He was paying attention, however, that much was clear. During moving scenes he'd respond with small noises or even the occasional comment.

"The poor girl really did deserve better. They weren't that fair to her, were they?" "There's no way he _actually_ suspected there was a rat, right?" "Is he touching a skull with bare hands? That's gross." And, Aziraphale's favorite question, due to the honest curiosity to it, "did flights of angels actually sing him to rest?"

"No flights," Aziraphale said, a touch of sadness to his voice. "Just me."

Crowley sat up suddenly, lifting his head from where it had fallen- perhaps on accident, perhaps not- onto Aziraphale's chest. "Are you implying that Hamlet actually existed?"

"No, no. The actor was pretended to die, see, and I was trying to be a helpful audience member, so I started singing softly. It really was quite emotional, and I may have put a bit too much effort into it. I was overheard, and William said later that I inspired a change in the script." That was as much as Aziraphale seemed to think needed explaining.

When the book was finished, Crowley was silent for a few minutes. Aziraphale allowed him time to properly sort out his thoughts, and then asked, "what do you think?"

"I think," Crowley said slowly, reflecting on a good response, "that it's a pity I didn't see the show when it was originally performed."

"Well, that's not-"

"I also think that you're very good at reading these out loud, and I'd... Like to hear more."

*

It was, then, how a tradition began. Every couple of days, Crowley would be waiting on the couch with a book, and when Aziraphale chased the last few book-browsers from the store and locked up, he would settle down with him to read. They had finished a few more of Shakespeare's plays when Crowley began turning his sights to other authors, and they were slowly progressing through _Moby Dick_.

"This isn't as interesting as I thought it would be," Crowley said. He was starting to regret his choice of reading. Even if Aziraphale brought life to the characters in his voice, the actual text seemed rather dry to Crowley.

"Just wait," Aziraphale promised him.

Sure enough, Crowley soon caught on. "I like Queequeg," he said.

"Why is that?" Aziraphale's hand stilled over the pages as he gave Crowley his attention.

"He goes where he wants. He willingly lives among strangers to him." 

Aziraphale thought that certainly fit Crowley, the demon who 'sauntered vaguely downwards' and refused to abide by Hell's rules.

"Also, it's cool of him to save Tashtego from the whale." If anyone asked Crowley what he was thinking of at the moment, he wouldn't say that he was thinking about heroically saving Aziraphale from a whale. But of course, not saying something still didn't mean he wasn't thinking it.

"Tashtego reminds me a bit of Atalanta," Aziraphale said, "you know, the girl from the Greek myths raised by bears? She got the first hit on a rampaging boar, drawing first blood, but Meleager killed it and everyone thought he deserved the pelt as a prize. They weren't happy when he gifted it to her."

"Oh! And that's similar to how Tashtego struck the first whale, but Stubb got the credit!" Crowley was elated to understand the connection.

When the book was done, Crowley expressed his joy that the character Gabriel was portrayed as crazy as well as rather lazy. Aziraphale took great delight in re-reading these passages of the book with increased enthusiasm.

With every book they read together, Crowley's view of the bookstore changed. He found himself lingering by shelves, flipping through pages idly, and on occasion even getting lost in a book, as Aziraphale was prone to doing. He always claimed, however, that they were far more interesting when Aziraphale read them.

"You should invite some people over," he suggested. "I'm sure others would like to hear you read. And you can tell us all about the strange connections and parallels you like to make."

"I can't just invite strangers into the shop!" Aziraphale looked nearly scandalized. "They'd put their hands all over the books! What if they try and steal them? And how could-"

"Angel!" Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's attention. "I don't mean _strangers._ I mean, Madam Tracy, or Adam, or Anathema."

"Oh." Aziraphale blinked rapidly, and then looked a bit pink. "Yes, that makes more sense." He seemed to cheer up quickly as he gave it more thought. "What a wonderful idea, Crowley! I'll invite them to come over next week."

*

Aziraphale sent out eight invitations. Two for Madam Tracy and Sergeant Shadwell, two for Anathema and Newt, and four that went off to The Them.

Out of all invited, only four showed up. Anathema, Shadwell, Adam, and Pepper. Aziraphale poured them each a cup of tea as they entered.

"Brian is at some family event, and Wensleydale is busy helping the school with a recycling project that he's doing for an assignment," Adam informed them.

"I was going to be busy, but I told my mom that this would broaden my world-view and help me understand the old and outdated expectations of society as shown in the literature of the past. She said I could come, but only if I take notes." Pepper help up a pencil and a notepad, the borders of which were covered in doodles of icecream cones and elephants and some very creative designs for swords. 

"Newt wants me to tell you that he wishes he was here," Anathema said. "He's gone to some lessons being hosted at the library. I think he's going to try and learn how to properly work a computer. I just hope he doesn't take down the power grid." She furrowed her brows with worry.

"He'll be fine, he's a smart boy." Shadwell sat in a large armchair. Aziraphale hadn't felt it necessary to miracle in furniture, so the seats in the room were a mix of styles from different rooms in the shop, and they were one short, so Adam ended up perched on the side of Anathema's chair.

"Is this all who will be coming?" Aziraphale fluttered his hands and looked around. "Lovely! It's good to see you all. This was all Crowley's idea, really, but it was a good one, and so I've decided to arrange this little..."

"Book club," supplied the demon.

"Right. I thought I could read the books out loud- or maybe we could take turns?- and then as we go, I can help you understand the story and make connections to the characters and the plot."

"Do any of these books have aliens?" Adam's hand was in the air as if he were in a classroom. "Or robots?"

Pepper's hand flew up as well. "Do you have any books about rockets? Or airplanes?"

"I was thinking we could start off with something simple." Aziraphale produced a book in his hand with a flourish. It was very clearly a miracle- If it were a magic trick, the book would have doubtless fallen to the floor. 

"What's that say?" Shadwell squinted to read the title.

"Animal Farm," Anathema said out loud. "By George Orwell. Aziraphale, I've already read that."

"I read it, once. Forget everything, though." Shadwell looked unimpressed.

"I haven't read it," Pepper said. "It looks good as any book, though."

"Any book is good when Aziraphale reads it," Crowley said, causing Aziraphale to stutter under the sudden spotlight.

"I, er... I'll certainly do my best to make it interesting for you all," he told them. He made sure everyone had a sticky note, which he claimed made the best bookmarks, and then he began reading. His voice wavered a bit at first, but he became confident as he continued.

Pepper had lots to say about the treatment of the animals, and she rejoiced alongside Adam when the animals revolted. When the pigs took charge of the farm, Shadwell's expression turned grim.

"I don't like pigs," he said. "Too many nipples."

"You can't be implying that all pigs are witches," Anathema told him.

"Anyone can be a witch, don't be fooled!" Shadwell slammed his book closed and pointed it at Pepper. "You could be a witch!" He turned his book towards Anathema, "you could be a witch!"

There was a brief moment of silence. Anathema exchanged a glance with Aziraphale, who reach out and pushed down Shadwell's arm.

"Please, Sergeant Shadwell," he said, "allow me to continue." 

Shadwell reluctantly opened his book again, rifling through it to the right page. No one mentioned the fact that, according to his logic, nearly any four-legged mammal could be a witch.

*

The first meeting of the 'AZ Fell & Co. Book Club' was considered, at least by Crowley and Aziraphale, a success, as they wrapped up the meeting with a discussion of the growing tensions between the pigs and the other animals. While Adam seemed content with the book, Pepper loved it, storing her copy of the book carefully in her bag next to the pad of notes she had diligently taken.

"Are you going to be here next week, then?" she asked him before she left.

"Yes, and then we should be able to nearly finish the book." Aziraphale opened the door for her. "Do you have a ride home?"

"Yeah, my mom is waiting for me." Pepper waved as she got into the car, and he saw her face through the window as the car pulled away. He closed the door, locked it, and pulled down the shades before going to clean up the tea. He was a bit surprised to see the tray missing.

"I took care of it, Angel," Crowley told him.

"Thank you, dear." Aziraphale put his book back on the shelf. "That went far better than I thought it would."

"I knew you'd do great." Crowley placed a small pillow from the couch against the armrest and spread himself over the whole couch, one leg nearly falling off the side. He removed his glasses and folded them, reaching behind him to put them on the table. "I have an idea for the next book we should read."

"Yes?"

" _Lord of the Flies._ " It had been one of the books that Crowley read in his free time.

"Really?" Aziraphale considered the idea. Kids stuck on an island, killing pigs, going mad and setting fires...

"Come on, it'll be fun. We can make fun of Beelzebub like we did Gabriel in _Moby Dick_."

"That _was_ fun. I just don't know if it's suitable for the children to read."

Crowley twisted his head to regard Aziraphale with amusement. "Pepper will love it."

"Oh, I'm sure she would. How about _War and Peace?_ It's not much better than _Lord of the Flies_ , but perhaps more informative."

"Isn't that the book that's longer than the Bible and about ten times more confusing?"

Aziraphale frowned. "I suppose so, yes." He smiled slyly. "Ten times more ineffable, then?"

Crowley rolled his eyes, perhaps a touch over-dramatically. "If you're going to read them something like that, in any case, you'll have to brace yourself for a lot of meetings."

"I suppose so," Aziraphale said. "It's a nice idea, isn't it? A club to explain the unexplainable?"

"The Ineffable Book Club," Crowley summarized.

Aziraphale sat on the floor next to the couch, his head next to Crowley's, and his hand reached up just as the demon's hand reached down, their fingers intertwining.

"Yes," he said, the smile on his face not seen by Crowley, but still there, "exactly."

**Author's Note:**

> This fic brought to you by lots of Sparknotes and frantic Google searches. I have never read Moby Dick in my life, nor do I plan to. I have, however, read the other books mentioned here, except for War and Peace.
> 
> Also, I'm not sure how the interior of the bookshop is structured, exactly, so I sort of made up a plot-convenient setting.


End file.
